Looking out across the enormous plaza, there was only one word for it: tragic—tragic beyond words.
On the uneven plaza, bodies lay sprawled across the ground, their flesh and blood blurred together. Though cultivators possessed endurance far beyond that of ordinary mortals, the pain that pierced both body and soul still drove everyone to wail in agony.
Dozens of cultivators had suffered severed limbs and grievous injuries. Their wounds looked as though they had been hacked apart by countless sharp blades, with stark white bones exposed. Even the mighty cultivators could not help feeling a chill in their hearts at the sight.
The sudden spatial storm had swept through like countless sharp blades, savagely slicing through everything in its path.
Neither cultivators nor the rocks covering the plaza had escaped.
If the cultivators of the Cold Plunder Realm had not been naturally combative and trained, to some extent, in body-refining arts, they might not have survived. Although they could not unleash divine abilities to defend themselves, their bodily resilience, strengthened by the rapid circulation of their internal magical power, was still formidable.
Even so, when that spatial aura swept through, their bodies had not escaped unscathed. Quite a few had been left with flesh split and bloodied.
If not for the terrifying spatial storm created by the self-destruction of hundreds of magical artifacts, which had loosened the restrictions around the towering Sky-Reaching Pillar and released a terrifying aura of confinement that blocked most of the storm's power, no one knew how many people on the plaza would still be alive.
Even the more than one hundred late Integration stage and peak-stage cultivators inside the great hall would not have escaped.
"How could such a thing have happened? Could something have gone wrong inside the Sky-Reaching Pillar?" Looking at the bleak